Indecision
by Consultingtimelordfrom221b
Summary: Sherlock and John are sharing some special "moments", but aren't sure if they're ready to recognize their feelings themselves.
1. Chapter 1

_He wasn't quite sure when it started. It was like a tradition now; an odd one, yes, but it kept happening nonetheless. They would come home, high from the excitement of completing a case, and within seconds of walking up the stairs, John would find himself helplessly pinned against the wall. Arms pulled up above him, legs raised slightly from the ground and trapped under a heavy weight._

_ It blew his mind every time, but after a minute or two His soft lips would leave John's, and then a pause where their foreheads touched gently, they listened to their now uneven breathing. The detective would abruptly pull away and disappear into his room without a word. Like a shadow, a ghost._

_ And that was that. Not a word was said about it, both acting as if it never happened, while the weight of what had occurred lingered in both their minds, touching their thoughts every now and then._

John anxiously stepped out of the cab, eyes nervously searching left and right as he approached the door marked in gold _221B. _He knew that as soon as he walked through the door and up the stairs, _it_ would happen like every other time. He unlocked the door as quickly as he could, and ran up the stairs to their flat.

**Sherlock reached in his pocket and produced a few bills for the outstretched hand of the cabbie before heading inside the door. Ignoring Mrs. Hudson's questions about the case, he silently crept up the stairs John had run up not too long ago.**

** He knew why John had sped up his walking this time. The detective sighed to himself; he knew this day was inevitable. As he stepped into the flat, he composed his face into its usual indifference.**

While Sherlock was probably wondering what was wrong with him, John raced into the kitchen before he could make it into the flat. He grabbed a kettle and frantically filled it up with water to boil. He vaguely remembering that one of his friends from Uni told him that tea helps you calm down.

He began to pace through the living room, hand spread over his forehead in thought and jumped, heart skipping a few beats, when Sherlock threw the door open and entered the flat. _That man will be the death of me._

**Sherlock stepped further into the flat, taking off his coat and scarf and placing them on the coat hanger. He watched John bustle about in the kitchen. He was sort of irked that he had hurried up here so quickly just to make a cup of tea**

** "Good tea?" he asked dryly, one eyebrow raised.**

When the kettle started to shriek, he poured himself a cup and dropped in chamomile tea bag, and watched it steep. John carefully walked to the couch and collapsed with an exasperated sigh.

John glanced up from his cup, startled. He hadn't expected Sherlock to talk to him.

"Erm…Yes, ah, yes. Very good," He paused and took in a deep breath. "Would you care for a cuppa?" He asked nervously. He noticed Sherlock's flat voice and scanned his face, wondering why he wasn't even the slightest bit delighted over finishing another case.

_Maybe he realized I was trying to get away from him? _John thrust the thought from his mind and mentally shook himself.

**"Not thirsty," Sherlock replied, standing stationary and keeping his gaze off of John. He wasn't much of a tea drinker lately anyway.**

** Obviously there were other things on his mind at the moment, like the case that had just been interrupted. The interrupter? John Hamish Watson.**

** "Thank you for the offer however."**

** He went to look out the window at the cars passing by, seeming distant. ****_Why couldn't things have gone as planned?_**

John remained silent. He studied Sherlock as he stalked gracefully to the window.

He never openly watched the man before, but there was something about tonight that felt…different; off. He set his tea down on the table in front of him, and crossed his arms as he voiced his thoughts.

"Sherlock, are you okay? You seem a little… off?"

**"Do I?" He thought aloud, though it was more of a rhetorical question; Sherlock didn't expect an answer. "I cannot imagine why."**

** He stopped himself from spinning around and jumping on the smaller man; instead, Sherlock contented himself by closing his ice blue eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His mood lifted a bit when he thought of how John was becoming attuned to his ups and downs.**

"Mhmmm," he hummed. "I cannot imagine why either. You were brilliant with the case. Fantastic, as always."

John took a sip of his tea and mulled over their conversation. _Obviously something is wrong, so why wouldn't he just say it?_

** "You are, ever vigilant in pointing that out, John," Sherlock decided to turn from the window and glance at his friend, offering a small smirk.**

** "I very well couldn't do it without you. Well, I could… But I'm assured that it wouldn't be as enjoyable without you there to bumble around and try to figure out the case." He moved as if to sit next to John, but suddenly changed his mind and shifted the position of his legs.**

John cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, um… you never cease to amaze me, Sherlock." The corners of his mouth curled up into a grin, rolling his eyes he scoffed, "You only enjoy me there because you need someone else other than Anderson to complain about for being an idiot."

He considered standing up and leaning against his tall frame, but remained sitting down in his indecision._Pull yourself together, Watson. You are a soldier, not a lovesick little girl._

**Sherlock smirked; John could be so flattering and quite funny at times. He pulled up a chair and sat nearby, ****_better to remain at a distance._**

** "You're most certainly less stupid than when we met, John. And Anderson is a twat, so he doesn't entirely count." He chuckled; the atmosphere in the room was lighter.**

John huffed at Sherlock's smirk. "Well, thanks for sitting down and staying a while," he remarked sarcastically after Sherlock sat down a distance away. He eyed the vast chasm between them and furrowed his brows.

He shifted his position on the couch so that he ended up sitting on the end opposite Sherlock. _Well at least his mood is more pleasant._

** "Of course I'll stay awhile. I always spend time with you, John." Though it didn't seem like it, he was still observing John's actions. Sherlock noticed him glancing critically at the space between them. ****_Did he want them to be closer perhaps?_**

**_ "_****We are flatmates," he stated, "so it's hard to not spend time together." He laughed quietly to himself and stood up. "But, I suppose I should be getting some sleep, and perhaps you too?"**

**_This was the real test. Did John want to pretend like they were normal flatmates, or did he want to admit that they were more?_**


	2. Chapter 2

John turned to look at Sherlock in disbelief. At night he always heard the occasional noises that led him to assume that Sherlock never slept. He would toss and turn in his bed, his imagination conjuring up images of what Sherlock might have been doing; typing on his website, slapping on some nicotine patches, talking to the skull mounted on the fireplace. The situations John could think of were endless.

At last he nodded his head in Sherlock's direction and stood up, feigning being tired by stifling a faked yawn. "Yes actually, I am a tad tired." He reached down to grab his untouched and now cold tea. "Getting some sleep sounds pretty damn good right now," John muttered. He rubbed his eyes and moved slowly towards the kitchen.

_Why the bloody hell did I just lie to the best detective in the world? Of course he's going to notice I'm lying._

…

**As soon as John moved to grab his mug, Sherlock knew that he was hiding something, that his yawn and tired gestures weren't genuine. John wasn't tired and neither was he. Now was the time to put his brilliant plan into motion.**

**His hand snapped out in the blink of an eye and grabbed John by the wrist, walking him forcefully back against the wall. "John. We both know that you're not really tired. Come now, lying is distasteful. On the other hand," Sherlock narrowed his eyes and smirked. "On the other hand," he leaned forward and murmured against John's ear, "Gotcha." He leaned closer still, whispering, "Again." The word was barely audible, said as if it were only a soft exhale passing through the lips.**

**Just as the numerous nights before, their faces were separated by mere centimeters. "Is this what you've been avoiding?" Sherlock's eyes were open wide now, seeming hesitant, vulnerable to John's gaze.**

…

John's heart stammered in his chest as he gasped aloud, and dropped his cup. The fragile glass shattered into pieces that flew in all directions. "Damn it, Sherlock!" he yelled, staggering back onto the wall in shock, colliding with a dull thud.

Sherlock's face appeared again, filling his vision with ice cold eyes that searched his own. John flinched when he felt warm breath tickling his ear.

Glancing away from Sherlock's intense gaze he stuttered, "I didn't mean to lie…I-I just, ah, I just….I don't know…." John looked back into his mesmerizing eyes. He felt exposed and trembled with anxiety whenever he was against the wall. It was becoming a habit.

…

**"You could just tell me, you know." Sherlock was acting different than the other times, his eyes almost pleaded with John. His face was filled with indecision and a little confusion: a first.**

**"You never opposed this before…I just…I always thought that you didn't mind. Are my deductions of your body language incorrect?" He only wanted to express himself in the only unadulterated way that was available to him; actions.**

**Sherlock's hold on John loosened a fraction as he leaned away slightly. ****_Am I being rejected?_**

…

"I could tell you…" he paused, whispering timidly, "But as you know, I, um, am not the best with my words." Shifting his weight from side to side, John looked to the ground, "I never minded. Well, don't mind, that is…."

John took a deep breath and mustered up any courage that being in the presence of this man banished, and slowly reached up with one hand and slipped his fingers into Sherlock's mass of curls. He gently moved their faces closer together, each breath they took mingling as their lips barely brushed.

_I've never seen him be so hesitant before, honestly he's usually the one coming onto me!_

…

**Sherlock exhaled "Perfect," after John brought their heads together. It was as if he was back to his normal self. The vulnerability and hesitancy a façade he temporarily wore to coerce John to kiss him of his own free will. But John would never have to know.**

**Sherlock pinned John's free hand above his head and pulled John closer to him, their bodies pressed together by the weight of Sherlock's hand on the small of John's back. Their lips were parted but a moment longer before he pressed his mouth against John's with renewed vigor, just like he had all the nights previous.**

…

John relaxed his whole body into the strong hand pressing against his back and he released a content sigh, reveling in the feeling of being held_. Damn that Holmes for making me feel like this._ Then doubt arose in John's mind as confusion painted a whirlwind of questions.

Ripping himself from Sherlock's hold, John put his hands to his head and yelled, "Sherlock WHY_?" _The ensuing silence was so quiet that John thought Sherlock would be able to hear his heart jumping out of his chest._ Why did this always happen? Why so much doubt? Since when did companionship turn into desire? Did Sherlock feel the same? What the hell were they doing?!_

…

**_About damn time John had some questions. He's always so compliant. _****Sherlock arched a brow and grabbed John's chin so that he was looking at him.**

**"Simple really." The detective planned his words out quickly so that they sounded just right****_._**** "It has come to my realization that I don't just need you John. I need to love you."**

**_And thus the waiting game begins._**

* * *

A/N: Alexis- Hey readers! Just to clear things up: **the Bold **is Sherlock, the 'Regular' is John, and the italics are their thoughts.

Chris- Enjoy my lovely JohnLock lovers. :P

Alexis- *****OUR -.-


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